Dear Santa,
Wassup pimp? How is Mrs. Santa, and the whore, whore, whores doing? Hope all is well with you, lazy bastard. I still can’t believe you get away with working 1 day per year. What do you do, fill out 364 vacation days?
Lucky bastard.
Anyway, every single freaking year since the Eleen Error, I have asked for one thing only, a fucking divorce! And what do you do year after year? You slide me another bimbo – not that I have complained, but its like asking for Nintendo Wii and getting college fund receipt. Nice but not really what I asked for.
So last thanksgiving as it has been since the Elin Error dawned on us, I was having Swedish meatballs and chasing them with Vicodin, Ambien, Baileys and whiskey…you know typical thanksgiving dinner at the Woods.
Then out of the blue Elin goes off on mistress #19 (apparently 18 bimbos is her cutoff) and sends my ass to the garage.
To tell you the truth I don’t know what the hell happened, I was stuffed, buzzed and slightly horny. All I remember when I gained consciousness is Elin holding my 9 iron, the caddy humping a hydrant, a cut lip and pain all over my body.
Then 911, National Enquirer, Lawyers…transgressions blah blah blah. The rest as they say is sweet history.
As I write this (in the bathroom, keeping appearance till divorce is final)…my lawyers and hers are working on the details of turning a nanny beau to one of Swedish richest. And you know what, I couldn’t give two shits.
I will give her 150 Mil, pay my ‘debt’ to society but so what? I am Eldrick Freaking Woods! I am 33, good looking, ethnic (but not black) and I play in a sport-ish event that you can literally play till government retirement age.
I made a billion dollars in 12 years, I can make the same in the next ten. I have the Nike CEO still kissing my ass amidst all the ‘drama’ so trust me the rest of sponsors will come back.
Of course I do feel for the kids and Elin, I am not a monster you know. Truth be told Elin is a good lady but I am just not the marriage type. I tried to tame the Tiger but no one really can, it has a head of its own.
Be well my friend and have a succesfull day in 2010. Thanks to you, I am already having the time of my life and can’t wait to get back out there.
TW
p.s. if you watch the fist pump carefully I always had the hips bent in an up against the wall humping style kinda of pose…practice makes perfect, ask the ladies.
Poor Tiger, everyone’s making fun of him now.
…hmm… one of the slightly more traumatising ones this … can I just say ‘pass’?
Off topic: still cant believe that the Cougars post is still generating traffic. How about we open a cougar/MILFs agency?
And Tiger’s wife don’t call him Tiger no more, she call him Cheetah.
Somehow I totally do not feel any which way about the whole Tiger story. I think something is wrong with me 😦
And on the side note, can I be the Madam of the Cougar/MILFS agency, I can already see myself in a turban and a brandy glass by my side 🙂
A tiger doesn’t change its spots too?
whaaaaat? Mind your own biz. What it twas you????
He will bounce back. Real tigers always do that